Trapped in a Myth: Eros and Psyche
by creelluka
Summary: 100th Reviewer One-shot fic for Sassyluv, for A Son's Revenge, a Daughter's Love. Fred and George trap Hermione and her friends in a book about a Greek Myth, why? Who? Click to find out!


**Hello! Sassyluv won the 100th Review One-shot fic for A Son's Revenge, a Daughter's Love, so this is what I came up with, with the restrictions I was given!**

 **Main Pairing:** **Severus/Hermione**

 **Secondary Characters:** **Fred and George**

 **Character Restrictions:** **Cast Ron or Molly Weasley in a negative light (if characters appear), no Dumbledore or Voldemort**

 **Rating:** **No restrictions**

 **Final Word-count:** **5,328**

 **I had some help from greeko dot com and 'The Greek Gods' by Evslin, Evslin, and Hooper (a book that's been on my shelf for about ten years :) )**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing relating towards Greek mythology, or the Harry Potter Franchise. (I did take some liberties, adding in a couple people) I did come up with Fanfare Foghorns, however!**

 **Unbeta'd, (sorry Emiliya) I wanted to get this out quick!**

 **Hope you enjoy :)**

 **~Creelluka**

* * *

Hermione had been writing a draft for a new proposal for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, as the new Head of the department―at only twenty eight, she was the youngest Head of any Ministry department in history― she was petitioning for changing the name of the department to something less insulting towards the magical creatures she was trying to work with, when the distinct tapping on the window of an owl pried her from her work.

Opening the window and exchanging the letter the owl bore for a frog leg, Hermione looked apprehensively at the unmistakable triple W insignia of Fred and George's joke shop that sealed the letter. Casting several revealing charms over the envelope and it's inside contents, which revealed nothing more than ink from a No-Smear quill and Quick-dry! ink, Hermione opened it.

 _Hermione,_

 _We know that by now you've probably shot all the revealing charms you know just in case this is like the last letter,_

A slightly different style of handwriting, probably Fred's, interrupted his brother's writing before the letter went back to the first writer's handwriting.

 _I swear it was a complete accident!_

 _Anyway, we need your expertise on a product we're working on, we can't say what it is in this letter, top secret information, you know, but we need your help, come to the shop on Sunday the nineteenth, we're closed to the public then._

 _See you then,_

 _F. Weasley_

 _G. Weasley_

And now here she was, browsing the back room of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes as she waited for Fred and George to make an appearance. She picked up a Demon Box and read the side before carefully setting it down. A large trumpeting noise startled Hermione as smoke poured out of a room she hadn't noticed previously.

"Ah, here she is!" One voice said.

"The woman of the hour!" Another voice chimed in.

"Hermione Granger!" Both voices chorused and Fred and George Weasley appeared through the smoke and sound of trumpets.

"So how do you-" Fred said.

"Like our new-" George continued.

"Fanfare Foghorns!" They said together.

Hermione looked at them unimpressed. "If that's all, I'm leaving." She turned to go and had to hide a grin as the twins fell about themselves trying to convince her to stay.

"Alright, alright, what did you need me for?" Hermione asked, giving in.

Fred and George looked at each other and grinned. "We need Hermione Granger-"

"To do what Hermione Granger does best!"

"Sorry, I've retired from helping kill megalomaniac snake people, you're on your own."

"No, we need you-"

"To read for us!"

Hermione stared at them once again. "You called me down here so you could have a story time?" The twins spluttered and started talking over each other.

"This is-" Fred.

"Honestly!" George.

"No mere story-" Fred.

"We _can_ -" George.

"A work of art-" Fred.

"Read you know-" George.

"A _masterpiece_!" Fred.

"Passed our N.E.W.T.s" George.

"How dare you-" Fred.

"When we took them-" George

"Simply call it ' _story time_ '!" Fred.

"At the ministry!" George.

Hermione was biting her lip furiously, trying not to laugh. _Honestly, those two don't know how easy they are to rile up!_

"Alright, fine!" she yelled. "I'll read your book!"

Fred and George immediately cheered up and started bustling around the work room, tossing things between them and opening boxes and drawers, looking for something; essentially making a mess.

"Here it is!" George yelled gleefully. He had been searching under the workbench and was now clutching something dusty in his hand.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"The Floo number of a pretty bird I talked to at the pub last month." George grinned widely. Hermione strode over and smacked the place where his ear would have been.

"Oy, hey, are you trying to kill me?" He yelled, and Hermione rolled her eyes. He was exaggerating, like always.

" _I_ found it!" Fred yelled, breaking up what would have become an argument. He had a thin book in his hands.

 _A novella, or a short story,_ Hermione guessed.

"Muggles have really strange ideas about deities," George said. "We found this book when we went to Greece for that meeting about expanding Wizard Wheezes last year."

"Apparently they thought people lived in the sky above a mountain and controlled their lives, or something like that." Fred tried to explain.

"You got a book on Greek mythology?" Hermione asked, interested now.

"Yeah, here, read it." Fred shoved the book in her hands and George forced her onto a limp beanbag chair that she had given them one Christmas.

"And don't bug us until you get back to the real world." They said in unison and shut the door.

Looking blankly at the closed door, Hermione had to admit that she would never fully understand Fred and George Weasley. She shrugged to herself and looked at the book once more.

"Hmm, 'Eros and Psyche' I wonder why the twins want me to read it." Hermione murmured to herself. _Oh well, I suppose I'll never know if I don't read it._

Hermione opened the book

Almost as soon as she did, Hermione felt faint, multicolored spots flickered behind her closed eyes and she felt like she was falling upwards and sideways, and in every other direction until she didn't know what was up and what was down. To the outside viewer, Hermione's body was fading, becoming translucent, if anyone else had been in the room with her, their hands would have passed right through her body as she faded out of sight as if she had never been there.

Outside the room, Fred and George are waiting for Hermione to disappear.

"D'you think she'll be mad at us?" George asks.

"Hermione? Mad at us? Whatever for?" Fred remarked sarcastically.

"I'm serious, we did kind of transport her friends and husband into that book, and they won't be able to get out until they finish the story."

"She'll be furious, she'll probably hex us!"

"So we should probably hide?"

"Yeah, probably."

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a king who had three wonderful daughters. The youngest, Psyche, was much more beautiful than her two sisters and looked like a goddess among mere mortals. Her beauty was famous and had been spread throughout the whole kingdom and men came to her palace to admire and worship her, though she did not believe herself to be as beautiful as everyone was wont to say.

When people saw her, they said that not even Aphrodite herself could compete with Psyche's beauty. Her hair was the color of honeyed cocoa, her skin smooth and pale as milk, her eyes like the cider everyone drank in winter time. The more people that saw Psyche, the less they remembered the goddess of love and beauty. The temples of Aphrodite were slowly abandoned, her altars covered with cold ashes and the sculptors would no more make statues for her. All the honors reserved to the goddess were then attributed to a simple, mortal girl.

The goddess of beauty could not accept this slight and requested help from her son, Eros.

"Use your arrows and make this girl to fall in love with the vilest and the most despicable creature who has ever walked on Earth." She told him in distress. Eros agreed to do so.

That night Eros set out to carry out the deed, but as he drew his arrow back, the moonlight shone upon her features and his hold on his weapons faltered and he himself was pierced by one of his own arrows. He couldn't make that beautiful maiden fall in love with a horrible creature, but he couldn't leave her there. Eros left and decided not to tell his mother of his failure.

Psyche, however, was sad because not only could she not fall in love with someone, but even more surprising, nobody seemed to fall in love with her. Men were happy to just admire her, then they passed by and married another girl. Her two sisters, Genofeva and Lunara, had held two lavish weddings, each with a king, Herminius, and Rhoecus.

Psyche was the most beautiful girl on Earth, but she was sad and lonely: always admired but never really loved. It seemed that no man would want her as his wife and this troubled her parents. Her father went to visit the oracle of Delphi to ask Apollo of how to find a husband for Psyche. The prophecy of the god was terrible, Apollo decreed that Psyche, dressed in black, should be brought to the summit of a nearby mountain and be left there, alone. A winged serpent, terrible and more powerful than the gods themselves, would come up and take her away.

No one could recreate the despair of the family and friends of Psyche. She was immediately prepared for the hill as if she were to face her death and with more crying and lamenting than if they were to drive her to the tomb, they led the young lady to the hill. Despairingly, they all departed, leaving Psyche to her fate, radiant and helpless, and they locked themselves in the palace to mourn her beauty for the rest of their days.

On the hill and in the dark, Psyche remained seated and waited. While she was shaking and crying in the quiet night, a slight breeze reached her. It was the fresh wind of Zephyr, the mildest of the winds. She felt herself being lifted from the ground and into the air. She was flying swiftly over the rocky hill, to a soft meadow full of flowers. Psyche was terror-stricken by the height and speed that she was traveling, and immediately fainted.

When she woke, the sound of a clear stream greeted her ears and when she opened her eyes she faced an imposing and magnificent castle. It seemed destined to a god, with gold columns, silver walls and floors of inlaid precious stones. It seemed uninhabited and Psyche approached cautiously to admire its splendors.

She remained suspicious at the threshold, where she heard a noise but could not see anyone. Then, a voice spoke.

" _The house is for you. Come in and do not be afraid. Take a bath and we will immediately honor you with a great dinner._ " It seemed to resonate inside her, deep, and smooth, and it calmed her.

Wandering around the magnificent castle, Psyche opened doors and explored. She hadn't forgotten the instructions she had been given and so when she opened a door and it led to the most magnificent bath house she had ever seen, she immediately ran into the steam filled room. Never had she taken such a refreshing bath, the bath had dozens of silver spigots that spurted out frothy bubbles, sweet smelling oil, and almost-scalding hot water. The tub was huge and deep, Psyche could barely stand when in the middle.

* * *

Hermione found herself naked in a large bathtub, about as big as the one in the Prefects' bath at Hogwarts. The last thing she remembered was opening the book of Greek myths that Fred and George had given her.

Fred and George. Book of myths. Special product that only she could test.

Bugger.

"Weasley's!" She screamed to the empty room, her hair fluffing and sparking in her rage. "You'd better hope this ends well, because when I get out of here, you won't be able to father children!"

* * *

Outside of the book, Fred and George shivered as prickles ran from their scalps to their feet.

"She knows!" George moaned.

"We're doomed!" Fred lamented.

* * *

When Psyche finished bathing, and had dressed back in the dress she had come in, she wandered around the halls again, looking for the dining hall. A loud pop startled Psyche and whirling around, she spotted a short, hairless creature with large ears and dainty nose, dressed in rags. Recoiling in fear, Psyche shrank back from the strange thing, though when the creature burst into tears, Psyche felt slightly guilty.

"Mistress is afraid of Teeky," the thing wailed. "Oh, Teeky is a bad elf! Bad, bad elf servant!"

Slightly panicked, Psyche tried to comfort the thing―elf. "Oh, Teeky, you did not scare me, you just startled me is all, please don't cry!" Which made the elf cry even harder.

"Teeky should be banished! Teeky scared poor, pretty Mistress!"

Psyche tried again, kneeling down so she could hug Teeky. "I am sure you're not a bad elf at all, Teeky, and I think I would dearly miss you if you were banished, I've not gotten to know you at all, and I am sure you are a fantastic elf, please stop crying."

The elf sniffled and looked at Psyche with watery brown eyes. "Mistress is so kind, Teeky cannot hope to live up to Mistress' expectations!" And to Psyche's consternation, Teeky burst into fresh tears.

Psyche tried a different tactic. "Teeky, you said you were a servant, would you mind terribly if you led me to the dining hall? I find myself quite famished." At that, Teeky seemed to gather herself, shaking off her previous mood, the elf transformed to the perfect servant, leading Psyche off down the hallway.

"This way, Mistress, follow Teeky, please!"

When Teeky opened a large ornate door, Psyche was surprised to see a rather small table, heaped in delicacies fit for, well, _gods_ , situated in the center of the large room. Sitting down at one of the two chairs, Psyche watched Teeky put food on her plate, and when Psyche tasted it for the first time, she swore she had never tasted such delicious dishes before then.

While eating, she heard a soft music around her, like a harp accompanying a numerous choir. She heard it but she could not see it. The whole day she was alone, only accompanied by Teeky.

"Teeky, where is my husband, will I meet him soon?" She asked.

"Master is Journeying far, coming near. Teeky must not say more!" The elf servant squeaked. So Psyche went back to eating.

* * *

" _Merlin damn it all!_ " Hermione screamed. She had just found herself sitting at a small table with a plate heaped full of food. She huffed, glared at the food, huffed again, and picked up the fork and angrily started eating.

While eating, Hermione thought about what was going on. While Psyche was dancing around the castle and interacting with Teeky, Hermione saw and experienced it all. But she couldn't change anything, Hermione felt her mouth―Psyche's mouth― and her body―Psyche's body―follow what was obviously written in the book. Only times like this, where the story was skipping over what was unnecessary, could she―Hermione― act freely.

" _Weasley's!_ When I get done with you, people won't be able to tell your head from your arse!" She growled.

* * *

When she finished eating, Teeky led Psyche to her room, a magnificent arrangement that words failed to describe. Teeky then led her to the attached bathing room for another bath. After being scrubbed and anointed, Psyche settled down to wait for her husband to arrive.

* * *

 _Curse those Weasley's! They'd promised to help make my Hermione's birthday special! Instead I've been trapped in a stupid book! I haven't even done anything since I stabbed myself with that fecking arrow!_

* * *

At exactly midnight, Psyche felt a presence in the room, but looking around she saw nothing. A voice spoke in her mind then, the same one from earlier, powerful, but speaking softly, and so that as he spoke, it seemed like the thoughts were her own.

" _You are Psyche. I am your husband. You are the most beautiful girl in all the world, beautiful enough to make the goddess of love herself grow jealous._ "

Psyche still could not see anyone, but she felt his voice inside her, and it made her entire being hum like she was inside a bell.

"Where are you?" She asked, voice filled with want.

"Here."

She reached out her arms, and felt broad shoulders, the skin beneath her fingertips hot with life. Psyche felt herself enfolded by the hard, softness of his arms, and when the voice spoke again, it was aloud and with his own voice.

"Welcome home."

* * *

Hermione was encircled by her husband's arms when the books' scene ended.

"'Welcome home?'" Hermione repeated sardonically.

"You know very well that was not me." Her husband sneered in distaste. Hermione laughed.

"Yes, I know, what a horridly clichėd line."

"But all the same, welcome home." Severus Snape smiled softly.

* * *

Days passed and Psyche danced and sang as she explored her castle, one day as she explored the castle grounds, she came across a cat, the only living creature she had seen besides Teeky, since her husband remained invisible every night when he came to see her. The cat was orange and to anyone else, ugly. But it's squashed looking face and thick fur enchanted Psyche and she knew the cat was a gift from her husband.

At the end of each day she returned to the castle, and awaited her invisible husband. And every night, he asked her if he could give her anything, and though every time she asked to see his face, and know what he looked like, he always refused.

"One day, you will," he always said.

One night she asked if her sisters could come to visit.

"I have missed them, and they have surely missed me, I think I should like to see them, sometime." She said.

"You may expect your sisters here tomorrow, along with their husbands."

The next day, the wind god that had borne Psyche to her husband, brought her sisters and their husbands and landed them in the courtyard. They were amazed to see their sister , whom was thought to be dead, running towards them from the castle. She was more beautiful than ever, glowing with happiness and more richly clothed than any queen. She ran joyously towards them and embraced her sisters, kissing their cheeks in greeting, then curtseying to their royal husbands, and welcomed them all inside.

She led them around her home and as she did, her sisters and their husbands grew more and more jealous. Genofeva and Lunara had married the nearby kings, Herminius and Rhoecus, whose castles were little more than pig pens compared with Psyche's home.

As they socialized over lunch, each guest was aiming to hurt Psyche.

"Where is your husband?" Genofeva asked, her unusual red hair had been artfully done. "Why is he not here to welcome us?"

"Perhaps he didn't want us to come." Genofeva's husband, Herminius muttered. His black hair tousled from the wind and green eyes suspicious.

:Of course he does," Psyche exclaimed. "It was he who sent the west wind, Zephyrus, to retrieve you!"

"Oho, so it is he we have to thank for being taken by force and hurled though the air. Quite rough transport." Rhoecus, Lunara's husband, complained. He had spoken with his mouth full, as well.

"Yes, I did not like it my first time at all,it takes a bit of getting used to, but it is so fun!" Psyche laughed joyfully.

"Yes, you seem to have changed considerably," Genofeva spat. "But that's still not telling us where your husband is. It is odd that he should not wish to meet us… very odd."

"Not at all," said Psyche. "He-he is rarely here by day. He has-things to do."

"What sort of things?" Lunara asked, her normally dreamy eyes were hard.

"Oh, you know… wars, peace treaties, hunting… you know how men are." She glanced at Herminius and Rhoecus.

"He is often away then?" Lunara questioned.

"Oh, no! No… that is… only by day. At night he returns." Psyche tried to explain.

"Ah, then we will meet him tonight. At dinner, perhaps…" Herminius stared coldly.

"No… well… he will not be here. I mean, he will, but you will not see him." Psyche stammered.

"Just what I thought!" Genofeva cried triumphantly. "Too proud to meet us. Herminius, I think we had better go home."

"Yes indeed." Herminius agreed. "If your husband is too high and mighty to give us a glimpse of his august self, then we're plainly not wanted here."

"Oh, no." Begged Psyche. "Please listen. You do not understand!"

"We certainly do not!" Lunara cried.

And poor Psyche, unable to bear her family's barbed remarks, told them how it was. The two couples sat at the table and listened.

* * *

"What the bloody hell is going on!" Ron erupted. Harry and Ginny were fired up as well.

"We're stuck in a book." Luna said simply, answering her fiancee's shouted question.

Hermione was furious. If all her friends were here, it meant that Fred and George had messed up. Huge. They would pay.

"I know that, Lu, but how are we supposed to get out of here!" Ron moaned. "I'm _hungry_!" They were still in the sunroom where their characters had been eating lunch, but all the food had disappeared.

"Stop thinking about you stomach, Ron, we've got to figure out how to get out of here!" Ginny scolded. Just then, Ginny's stomach gurgled loudly enough for all of them to hear.

Hermione smirked. "And that's why I married an older man."

Harry, Ginny, and Ron groaned. "We get it, Snape's not a git anymore, we all get along relatively well with him, so you don't need to rub our faces in it every single time." Harry complained.

While the Golden Trio plus Ginny had been bantering with each other, Luna and Severus had been quietly casting spells (since magic apparently _did_ work in their prison) and muttering to themselves and each other.

"We must complete the story-line." Severus said. the others looked at he and Luna. "In order to leave."

"That makes sense." Hermione said. "The twins said they didn't want to see me until I had finished the book."

"We're heading back down the gnome hole." Luna warned.

* * *

When Psyche finished her tale, her sisters and their kings were almost to shocked to speak.

"Oh, my heavens!" Genofeva cried. "It's worse that I thought!"

"Much, much worse," said Lunara. "The Oracle was right. You _have_ married a monster."

"Oh, no no!" cried Psyche. "Not a monster! But the most beautiful creature in the world!"

"Beautiful creatures like to be seen." Herminius said. "It is the nature of beauty to be seen. Only ugliness hides itself away. You have married a monster."

"A monster," said Rhoecus. "Yes, a monster… a dragon… some scaly creature with many heads, perhaps, that feeds upon young maidens once they are fattened. No wonder he feeds you so well."

"Yes," said Lunara. "The better you feed, the better he will later."

"Poor child―how can we save her?" Genofeva begged.

"We cannot save her. He is too powerful, this monster, she must save herself." Rhoecus said sadly.

"I won't listen to another word!" cried Psyche, leaping to her feet. "You are wicked, evil-minded shrews, all of you! I am ashamed of you. Ashamed of myself for listening to you, I never want to see you again. Never!" She struck a gong, and the table was snatched away by elves, and a window whipped open and the west wind gathered them up and bore them away to their own castles.

Psyche was left alone, frightened, bitterly unhappy, longing for her husband. But there were still many hours before nightfall. All that long hideous afternoon she brooded about what her sisters had said. The words stuck in her mind like poison thorns. They festered in her head, throwing her into a fever of doubt.

She knew her husband was good. She knew that he was beautiful. But still―why would he not let her see him? What did he do during the day? Other words for her sisters came back to her:

"How do you not know what he does when he's not here? Perhaps he has dozens of castles scattered about the countryside, a princess in each one. Perhaps he visits them all."

And then jealousy, more terrible than fear, began to gnaw at her. She was not really afraid that he was a monster. Nor was she at all afraid of being devoured. If he did not love her she wanted to die anyway, but the idea that he might have other brides, other castles, clawed at her, and sent her almost mad. She felt that if she could only see him her doubts would be resolved.

As dusk began to fill the room, she took a lamp, trimmed the wick and poured in the oil. Then she lighted it, and put it in a niche of the wall where its light could not be seen. She sat down and awaited her husband.

Late that night when he had fallen asleep, she crept away and took the torch. She tiptoed back to where he slept and held the lamp over him. There in the dim wavering light she saw a god sleeping. Eros himself, the archer of love, youngest and most beautiful of the gods. He had black hair that he wore long, a strong jaw and a proud nose. He wore a quiver of silver darts even as he slept. Her heart sang at the sight of his beauty. She leaned over to kiss his face, still holding the lamp, and a drop of hot oil fell on his bare shoulder.

Eros woke immediately and seized the lamp, and doused its light. Psyche reached for him, felt him push her away. She heard a voice saying, "Wretched girl―you are not ready to accept love. Yes, I am love itself, and I cannot lie where I am not believed. Farewell, Psyche."

The voice was gone. She rushed into the courtyard, calling after him, "Husband! Husband!" She heard a dry cracking sound, and when she looked back, the castle was gone too. The courtyard was gone. Everything was gone. She stood among weeds and brambles. All the good things that had belonged to her had vanished with her love. Her cat, Teeky the elf. All gone.

From that night on, she roamed the woods, searching. When she happened upon a temple to Aphrodite, she entered, not knowing what else to do. Psyche prayed to the goddess to forgive her for listening to her sisters and their husbands, and to get Eros back. She did this for five days and the fifth night, Aphrodite appeared. The goddess had not, of course, overcome her jealousy for Psyche and still wanted her revenge. She told the young girl that she needed to be completely sure that Psyche was the appropriate wife for her son. Therefore, Psyche should accomplish three tasks to prove her skills. If she failed in even one of these tasks, Eros would be lost to her forever.

Psyche agreed and Aphrodite led her to a hill. There the goddess showed her a dune of different seeds: wheat, poppies, millets, and all the seeds of the world.

"I want you to separate these seeds by this afternoon. If you do not, you will never see Eros again." said Aphrodite and abruptly left.

 _How could she do that?_ Psyche wondered. _How could she separate all these tiny seeds?_ This was a cruel task that filled her eyes with tears. That moment, a group of ants were passing by and saw her in despair.

 _Come, feel mercy for this poor girl and let us help her,_ they said to each other. They all responded to this appeal and worked hard, separating the seeds, something in which they were experts. From the big original pile of seeds, they formed several smaller dunes, each with one kind of seed. When Aphrodite came back, all the seeds had been sorted. The Dove became furious, "You have not finished your tasks," she said and ordered Psyche to sleep on the ground, without giving her any food.

While Aphrodite reclined on her seat, she declared her next trial. She thought that if she could compel Psyche to hard work for a long time, her beauty would not last. She would never allow the mortal girl to gain her son's favor again. For now, Eros had been banished to a far away castle, where he stayed, mourning Psyche's betrayal.

The next morning, Aphrodite took Psyche to a waterfall. "That is River Estige, awful and abhorrent. Fill this bottle with its water." the goddess said.

On reaching the waterfall, Psyche realized that the surrounding rocks were slippery and steep. The waters rushed through such abrupt rocks that only a winged creature could approach. And indeed, an eagle helped her. It was flying with its huge wings above the river when it saw Psyche and felt sorry for her. It seized the bottle from her hands with its beak, filled it with some of the black black water and gave it back to Psyche.

Aphrodite accepted the bottle with a cold smile. "Someone helped you," she said sharply. "Otherwise you would not have been able to perform this task by your own. I'm going to give you another chance to prove you that you are as determined as you claim to be."

For her final task, Psyche was given a box and told to go to the Underworld and ask Persephone, Queen of the Dead, to drain some of Psyche's beauty into the box.

Obedient as usual, Psyche took the path leading to Hades. When she entered the gates, Charon was so enchanted by her, that he took the boat to the other bank, where the dead people lived and helped her find her way in the dark to the palace of Hades. Indeed, the boatman helped her and soon she was right in front of Persephone.

When she asked the Queen to drain some of Psyche's beauty in the box, Persephone did so gladly, as the Queen of the Underworld, and the goddess of love were quite good friends with each other. Psyche took the box and returned cheerful to the Earth. When she gave Aphrodite the box, the goddess became extremely angry. She yelled at the poor girl that she would never let her go and she would always be her servant.

At this exact time, Zephyr, the West wind, and servant to Eros, had seen the mistreatment that Psyche faced, and fled to inform Eros of his love's torture. Eros was touched by the devotion of Psyche and this healed the wound of betrayal. He left his castle and found Psyche exhausted in his mother's garden. Spiriting her away to Olympus, Eros convinced Zeus to make Psyche an immortal goddess.

After Psyche woke to her new eternity, Aphrodite and Psyche reconciled. Since Psyche was now a goddess and living on Olympus, the people on Earth had forgotten the beautiful mortal, and begun worshipping Aphrodite again.

Psyche began helping her husband, her special task to undo the talk of the bride's family, and the groom's. When mother or sister visit bride or groom and say "This, this, this...that, that, that...better look for yourself; seeing is believing, seeing is believing." Then Psyche calls the west wind, who whips them away, and she, herself, invisible, whispers to them that none but love knows the secret of love, that believing is seeing.

* * *

With a tingling sensation, and a feeling of falling upward, Hermione found herself back in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. On the floor with the wind knocked out of her. Severus, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Luna had come back with her and were gasping for breath as well.

"The made it!" A red-haired blur exclaimed.

"Did you have fun?" Another red-haired blur asked.

Hermione glared at them and wheezed. "I'm...going… to hex...you!"

"Uh, now, now," Fred said nervously.

"You can't hex us, we did it for you!" George said, trying to surreptitiously don a Shield Cloak.

"Happy…Birthday…love." Severus croaked.

 _finis_

* * *

 **Characters:**

 **Psyche- Hermione**

 **Eros- Severus**

 **Genofeva- Ginny**

 **Herminius- Harry**

 **Lunara- Luna**

 **Rhoecus- Ron**

 **Pairings:**

 **Severus/Hermione**

 **Harry/Ginny**

 **Ron/Luna**

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you thought in the comment box below?**

 **~Creelluka**


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